


A New Age

by thatonedimstar



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonedimstar/pseuds/thatonedimstar
Summary: Eleanor, a member of the Night Court Inner Circle, has been alone for far too long. Lucien for even longer. Maybe they could work with each other to mend their broken hearts and start a new chapter in their lives. Together.
Relationships: Lucien / Original Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	A New Age

There was a soft, barely-there knock at her door.

Eleanor looked up from her book and glared at the door. If she listened close enough, she could hear Lucien’s boots as they scuffed against the marble floor. The way his breath caught and heart tripped over itself. She had half a thought to ignore him, but the thought of merely seeing him—

She closed her book loud enough that she knew he would hear it. Just like she knew he would hear her as she rose from her seat near the blazing fire; the layers of her silk robe rustled against her nightgown and caressed her skin. Lucien’s heart skipped a beat and the scuffing of his boots stopped dead. There was a tug at the warm, golden string attached to her ribcage.

She reached the door and pulled it open, unable to stop the way her breath caught when she saw him. It happened every time. He surprised her like no one else could. The gentleness in his eyes; the tenderness in his voice; the fiery colour of his hair; his sharp, enchanting beauty. She always forgot how breathtaking he was.

“You left dinner so suddenly. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” His eyes dropped down to her lips but lifted back up to her eyes in a flash. Anyone who wasn’t an immortal trained to kill wouldn’t have noticed. 

All at once, the emotions came rushing back. They emerged from where she had hidden them inside the pages of that book. A deep, soul-tearing sadness swarmed her. Her breath hitched and tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t have answered the door. Out of any day of the year, she deserved today off more than any other.

“I’m all right, thank you,” she said. Her voice was softer than she had expected it to be. Lucien noticed the switch in her demeanor. Not missing a beat, he took a step back, giving her space. For once, she didn’t want him to give her any space. “Stay,” she blurted. He stilled and blinked slowly. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please.”

For a moment, he did nothing. He was so still that she swore he’d died on the spot. The way his heart paused and breath jumped only made her think that more. Her palm became sweaty on the doorknob and her heart started pounding wildly in her chest. He might say no. She didn’t even think that possibility over. That was _stupid, stupid, stupid._

She retreated a step, but he took one forward. He regained his composure and held out one of his hands and pushed it against the door to keep her from closing it. “Of course I’ll stay, Ella,” he croaked.

She couldn’t explain how much those four words meant. A tear slipped free and Lucien watched it, his breaths turning slightly shallow. She stepped aside and let him in, wiping the tear away before it could slip over her cheekbones. He entered her room, and as he past her, she got a light whiff of his scent: something she could only explain as warmth and light and safety.

Slowly, Lucien made his way into the center of her room. She shut the door and leaned against it, watching him warily. He glanced around, taking in the surroundings. The fire that blazed in the grand stone fireplace. The book and empty cup of tea sitting beside it on the hard wooden table. The piles of clothes she’d carelessly discarded near the foot of the bed, despite the fact the everything else was spotless. Her bed was made, not a ripple in the large comforter. No speck of dust was out of place, and every surface shone.

“It’s been a difficult day,” she explained, though she didn’t feel the need to. He already knew. Even if he hadn’t read the room as easily as she knew he could, he would know, just like she would know if he had an off day, as he often did.

“I know,” he said softly, looking over at her. The weight of his stare pressed down on her chest, though not in a bad way. 

The warm glow of the fire added a trace of golden light to his hair and made his features look far softer. She saw how some looked at the large scar that slashed down from his brow to chin in veiled fear or confusion. But she only saw beauty and strength. That, after all he’d been through, he could still look at her and smile. 

After all she’d been through, she could still look at him and feel something other than dread. The idea of committing herself to him, even just as a friend, didn’t frighten her like it normally did.

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” she asked, needing to distract herself from the heat in Lucien’s look. He blinked, as if rising out of a trance, and shrugged.

“Not really. I was thinking I’d just read, or go for a walk down in Velaris,” he said. “What about you?”

Eleanor glanced over at her four-posted curtained bed. “Sleep. Read. Eat.” She shrugged and looked back at Lucien, allowing herself a private smile that made his heart flutter. “Nothing productive, for sure. I’ve already completed all my work for the week.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. One that Eleanor was grateful for. Silence was easier than having to come up with something to speak about, and today that certainly seemed like a harrowing task. 

She started moving toward the other side of the room, where most of the wall was windows. As she passed Lucien, she brushed her hand up against his, gripping lightly at the tip of his fingers to guide him. He fell in step behind her, walking so near that she could feel his presence like pillar of warmth.

Deep red velvet curtains were drawn over the windows. They blocked out the bleeding lights from the city, giving her the darkness she had craved earlier that day. Now all she wanted was light.

“I know you have quite a nice view from the room you have been staying in—I stayed in it myself for a few weeks—but this one,” she said, reaching out and unlatching the door to the balcony, “is my favorite.” She pulled the door open, smiling without restraint at the way he gasped. 

They stepped through the doorway, but she didn’t let go of his hand. He took her hand in his properly, squeezing it. She knew it was his way of expressing the awe at what he saw, because no words could explain it.

The sky was awash in purples and bruised blues, the only trace of the once-blue sky a thin streak of pink deep on the horizon. The lights of Velaris were blinking alive, in colors of oranges and blues and whites, magical and natural. Music wended through the air, all jumbled together but somehow creating a marvelous symphony. Stars danced across the sky, many constellations that she could read and recognize.

Eleanor lifted her hand and pointed at a constellation. “What do you call that one?” she asked, waiting for him to follow her gaze.

“The Lady,” he said simply, a tone of confusion in his voice. Tears welled in her eyes, and she hoped he didn’t see them. 

“Tell me about it,” she managed, her throat closing up as the words came out. 

Lucien hesitated, then he took in a deep breath, his thumb caressing circles on the back of her hand. “It’s said that the Lady nurtures and plays with children who stay up past their bedtime. She’s always moving across the sky, taking with it those children who’d rather be free than have to do any more chores.” There was a breath of pause where she could feel his attention on her cheek. On the tear that rolled down it. “They also say that she cares for and guides the lost souls of children who died in a painful or tragic way.”

She could hardly even get the next words out without choking on her tears. “It was my daughter’s favourite.” Lucien stiffened beside her, and it was as if the whole world was holding its breath. “She’d always said it would be cool to have stars as a mother. And I think—” A sob tore through her, and Lucien squeezed her hand even tighter. She used it as a lifeline. “Every year on her birthday, the Lady is the brightest constellation in the sky. I like to think that’s my little girl coming to say hi.”

Lucien wrapped his arms around her center. She did nothing to stop him as he pulled her against his chest. She put her hands over his, leaning back into him. The rise and fall of his chest grounded her. It gave her something else to focus on instead of the ray of pure sunshine that had been her daughter. The light that was now extinguished.

“Do they know?” he asked softly, his voice hardly differing from the cool wind that curled around them.   
She knew what he was talking about: did her High Lord and High Lady, along with their little Inner Circle that she had been apart of for hundreds of years know. 

“Not exactly,” she said, and tried to focus on her words instead of their meaning. “They know I had a full, separate life before I met them. That I had friends and a job. But they don’t know that I had a wife, or that we took in a little orphaned girl too young to even crawl.” She took in a deep, slow breath. She let the brisk night air clean out her lungs and clear her mind. “Or they could know. I have no idea. Even if they do, they won’t say anything unless I approach them.”

Lucien rocked her slowly, his nose buried in the nape of her neck, as if he were breathing her in. Savoring this once in a lifetime moment. Bathing in the peace and purity of it, despite the horrors she’d implied with her words. She didn’t mind, though, because right here, right now, she was home.

She was as close to her daughter as she could be without floating up into the sky itself, and her fate—her destiny—was standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her center. Nothing could ruin the paradise she had found herself in.

Maybe the centuries-old wounds were finally starting to heal over. With Lucien’s help, maybe one day they would. Maybe one day she wouldn’t have to commit herself to darkness every year when this day came along. Maybe she could even tell her story to her friends who had so quickly become family.

“I’m the only son of High Lord Helion,” Lucien said, his voice hitched in a way that let her know it was difficult for him to say. A shock of surprise spurred through her, causing her to still, but it didn’t last for long. She’d opened up to him and told her a secret no one knew, so he opened up and told her a secret no one else knew. Here, under the stars, they laid themselves bare.

“Looks like immortality has handed both of us one hell of a wild card.” She leaned her head against his chest, smiling softly as a star streaked across the sky. As if the Mother herself was sending confirmation.

“Seems so,” he murmured with a sigh of resignation. He pulled her closer, his fingers slipping underneath the fold of her robe. The calluses on his fingers scratched delicately at her skin through the flimsy nightgown. It didn’t raise arousal in her like it would if anyone else did it, but it wasn’t meant to. It was him reminding her that they were here together. As two people, not a lost son of the Day Court or a Night Court ambassador.

“It also seems that the Mother means for us to deal with it together,” she said, cursing at how still he went as he processed and decoded her words. When he finally realized what she meant, he went so still she thought the next breeze would turn him to dust and steal him away.

“We’re mates.” His whole body went rigid, and she did her best not to panic. To breathe. She ruined this. This—this peace. It shattered into a hundred million shards, falling and scattering around her feet. The only thing that kept her from folding in on herself and crumbling to the floor was his arms still wrapped around her.

“I know that after Elain and the way that bond was ended, you might not want anything even close to this again—”

“Eleanor,” he said carefully, and she realized she was the only one who had been panicking. He was as relaxed and patient as always, still a pillar of strength behind her. The sun was fully set now. “Elain’s happy, so I’m happy. I still miss her and it’s difficult to see her with someone else, but I understand that it never would’ve worked out. If you want to try, I’ll try.”

She swallowed, closing her eyes and letting herself melt into him. “I’ll try.” She knew it will be difficult to open her heart to someone other than her late wife, but he’d already been part of it for months, if not years. This new thing between them might not be such a difficult thing. Maybe it could be a form of salvation for both of them.

“Then I won’t leave you until the Lady has wandered from the sky,” he promised, and in that moment, she felt the bond bloom brighter. It wasn’t really accepted—not yet. But it had been birthed fully into this world, under the glittering night sky. On a night that had, for a long, long while, caused her dread and despair. Now, all she could feel was hope and— _love_. An emotion that was new and foreign, yet something that had been a part of her since she was a babe. 

This was a new age, and nothing could bring her more joy than to say Lucien would be beside her for it.


End file.
